Passion
by danderson
Summary: Fiyero ponders his usefulness during a late night at the library. Written at one in the morning and at the university! by brainless me while keeping a genius company. It was either this or astrophysics. I chose Wicked.


It wasn't that Fiyero loved the library. In fact, he found himself adverse to the very principle of the library: be quiet, study, and don't distract the Best Student in School. But if being in the library meant simply being near said Genius, then that was where he would stay. For awhile, anyway. Eventually, he would have to go back to his dorm to rest, despite his fear that something terrible would happen to her while he was gone. She stayed far too late for his liking, and though he always returned to escort her back to her dorm, there was no accounting for those hours between midnight and three during which he retired to slumber. But when he fell asleep at the table, it distracted her, and so he had to sleep elsewhere.

How she stayed awake, he would never know. Coffee, really, was the answer. But caffeine only had so much power, and he knew that the majority of Elphaba's ability to stay up till all hours of the night was the sheer will to do so.

"Fae," he said, gently.

"Hm?"

"I really think you should call it a night. Please. I'm worried about you, you haven't slept in -"

"I know," she sighed. "But this project is really taking it out of me. I promise I won't be here much longer if you want to go."

"No, I'll wait to walk you back."

Fiyero could always find something to do; there were some chairs that rolled. He had been expressly forbidden from "playing with them" but could sometimes get away with it. They were fantastic, and could only be found in the library. It figured, Fiyero often thought, that the best features of a school like Shiz would be in the dark, musty library. Rolling chairs and Elphaba. "Stay away from those chairs," Elphaba called as he (he thought) snuck silently away. "Do you really think you're being stealthy?" She rolled her eyes. "I know where you're going."

"And I know that your eyes are burning, so you closed them, and that's how you heard me - your other senses were heightened."

"Alright, that hit a little close to home," she murmured, smirking with discomfort.

"It's almost as if I know you," he shot back. "Sorry, from now on, you're a stranger to me. Ebphala, right?"

"Ha ha," she intoned.

"You're the girl that got suspended for blowing off class and getting naked in that field," he continued. "I've heard of you."

"I wanted to disappear, and the grass seemed like the best hiding spot," she revealed.

He paused. "Please don't," he requested, all playfulness gone from his voice.

"Go play quietly amongst the stacks," she bossed, uncomfortable even after all this time with his sincere affection.

While he frolicked as quietly as he could, Fiyero pondered the girl who so captivated, motivated and, admittedly, frightened him. She'd come so far in their relationship, and most of the time, he really appreciated it. Every once in awhile, when he'd wrap his arm around her and she'd tense, he'd have to bite back a sigh of immense frustration. But for the most part, he accepted that she was a girl who didn't like to be touched. She might as well come and go by bubble for all the contact most people were allowed. And so he was grateful that he wasn't lumped in with those other people. She was far too smart for him - and always would be. It wasn't that Fiyero was stupid. He'd let himself think he was brainless, but now he knew that he wasn't. He could pull of decent grades if he tried, and, lately, he was doing well in all his courses. It was just that he wasn't passionate about school as an institution. If there was another way to learn about something, Fiyero would rather find it, even if the way he devised for himself was much harder. Being told facts and then tested on memorization wasn't his idea of stimulating. Knowledge was exciting, but not the way in which most people his age were forced to acquire it.

Passion. What a word, and it was so completely Elphaba. His passion fell short, in all areas except passion for her. He was passionate about stopping in the middle of an ordinary moment and taking a deep breath in. He was passionate about his friends and family, and about finding ways in which to laugh, heartily, every day.

Elphaba was passionate about things that MATTERED. And while, mostly, he thought that she was the only thing that mattered, he knew she would never be impressed with declarations that he didn't need to devote energy to anything but her. It would make her uncomfortable, for one, and... It just wasn't... Good enough for her. Not that she'd EVER make him feel second rate; thank goodness. He didn't share with her how often he felt that way while standing next to her, or while looking over her work, or simply watching her study, or talk about something new and incredibly difficult to comprehend. She'd be horrified, and there was no need to burden her with that.

So, instead, Fiyero rolled around on chairs until she found him, and, trying to look stern, interrupted. "Are you quite finished, hooligan?"

He paused, caught and guilty. "Only if you are."

She gestured to the books in her arms and shifted under the weight of her shoulder bag, which she wouldn't let him carry for her. "I surrender. I need sleep."

He grinned. "Care to get it back in my room?"

"The look on your face suggests that sleep is not what you're after," she pointed out, that trademark eyebrow raising in accusation, though her eyes were smiling.

"I'll let you sleep, if you'll only promise to sleep," he swore. She'd been working so hard lately... He needed her to sleep.

Elphaba wrestled with the idea in her head, the full weight of it bouncing around knocking her head to and fro. "Just this once," she said. "Because your dorm is closer than mine."

That night, while Elphaba slept, Fiyero pondered his possible contributions to her life once more. Perhaps, because he was so intent on displaying to her his adoration, she'd actually realized that she could trust him. After all, here she was, asleep in his arms. He watched over her and thought that, perhaps, his chosen passion was beneficial enough to her to matter.


End file.
